Token
by Flutters Is Shy
Summary: Gamer-lite from the Queen of Escalation herself, Talyor Hebert. No menus, no 'ID's', no quests. 'Leveling' only happens from using her given powers.
1. Prologue part 1

It had appeared after the locker.

Well, more accurately it appeared _IN_ the locker. It was the only thing that had allowed me egress, otherwise I might still be in that cold stinking cage even to this day. No one had showed any inclination towards letting me out in the first place, even when I had filled the hallways with my screeches of pleading. Desperately I had called out, yet no one had even _pretended_ to come to my aid.

They had found my body sprawled outside the front of the school, a trail of filth leading straight back to the poisonous trap I had crawled from. The locker, standing impassively with its arms wide open, greeting all who creeped forth to peer inside. Surely they were as disgusted aI had been, if the pitying gazes were anything to go by.

The nurses in the hospital were a chatty sort, spouting forth a plethora of inanities designed to fill the air between them and pass the 'torturous' breadths of time between shifts. They said the gunk I was found in was little better than 'toxic waste'. That they were surprised that I had even perked up as well as I had. The fact that a health professional didn't have the patients in the forefront of her mind and was simply going through the motions in order to pick up a paycheck was slightly annoying, but this was Brockton Bay after all.

The local shithole of the universe. There was precious little to make such a shithole any better.

Superpowers were the stark exception.

 **To Run Away; Lv 1  
Allows the user to transfer their bodily mass into a non physical state.  
**  
After I had finally gotten home, I was able to just relax and lie on my bed in relative silence. My dad was hovering, pacing back and forth in the kitchen below. He was worried still, and rightly so. Apparently the school had weaseled out of paying for my hospital bills SOMEHOW, arranging for a pitiful and frankly insulting settlement that barely payed off the duration.

The text hadn't shown itself floating in the air before me, it hadn't appeared in a ball of sparkling light or booming thunder. It just sat deep inside the recesses of my mind, forgotten until I bid it to resurface. I didn't have to close my eyes, and it didn't show itself where I could see it. I could just _see_ it inside my head. It was odd. Moreso due to the fact that my power apparently thought it was based off of a video game, at the very least that's what I think the 'Lv' was alluding to.

The best part? 'To Run Away' wasn't the only line of text hanging about in my head. Admittedly the text was greyed out and I couldn't actually touch it like I could the first, but the _potential_ of it drifted there, just out of reach. I had to do something to unlock it, I just didn't know what yet. 'To Fight Back' was slightly more appealing than a power literally called 'running away', but I couldn't deny the usefulness of it.

Shadow Stalker seemed to do well enough with it.

 _Why_ the power had decided to ape miss Stalkers, I hadn't the faintest. Needless to say, I wouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth. If she ever called attention to it I'd just shrug and say some variation of 'power bullshit'. She couldn't make me stop using it, I'd just have to avoid calling myself any variation of her cape name. It was bad form to steal a capes name, or at the very least that's what copious trawls through PHO informed me of in my years of perusal.

No idea _what_ I'd call myself, especially not without knowing what 'fighting back' did yet. I mean, yeah. I bet it would be some form of 'fiiiiiiiighting' power. But that was a horribly large expanse of various powers and abilities to puzzle through, even when just considering those located within the bay. Regardless, calling myself any variation of 'Shadow' was bound to end in inevitable failure. Would still be better than getting saddled with 'Chubster'.

Rifling through my closet unveiled a lack of usable costume pieces, aside from my usual clothing choices. Baggy pants and shirts to hide my flabby, unflattering paunch and skinny limbs that forced my body to contort into a gawky miserable mess. Too bad masks weren't a normal fashion statement for non cape civilians, I'd kill to be able to obscure my too wide mouth with a simple sheaf of paper. Oh well. I could use the darkest pair of jeans from the bottom of my closet (there was a hole in the knee, no need to add to the pile of ammunition that terrible trio slung at me.) paired with a baggy black hoodie. I didn't have black shoes, but a pair of dark brown hiking boots should fit the bill.

To add to that, a dark green wooly scarf would serve to obscure my mouth, allowing me to cover my face without harming my ability to actually see. Truly, the life of one who wore glasses was a tenuous thing. A real mask down the line would be a problem, the only solution I could think of would be to get a pair of prescription goggles so that I could properly protect my eyes in the future. As is, a string tied to both of the tips of the legs would hopefully keep my glasses on my face if I was forced to run or fight.

Standing in front of my closet mirror, I cut a very... depressing figure. I was going to be a hero, now that I had powers... I'd have to think up an exercise routine so I could get into some sort of a semblance of shape. A different shape. Dumpy yet gawky is not a shape I looked good in. The only redeeming feature of mine was my mass of hair, a fond memory of my late mother. Adding to that, it was slightly too... Memorable. Tucked up into a bun and hidden underneath a swimming cap beneath my hoodie. It wasn't comfortable, and it sure wasn't flattering. Made my head look mishapen. Moreso than my mouth already did.

I activated _Run Away_ , my form becoming blurred in the mirror as a suspicious haze replaced myself in the mirror. It wasn't shadow, it wasn't black smoke, it was just myself. Slightly hazy. Wasn't enough of a disguise in and of itself for me to just use the power nonstop, but... I reached for the mirror, watching as my hand slid through the surface. It looked like I had amputated myself, a stump of my arm pressing into the mirror. I pulled back, watching as the haze reformed into my hand when it escaped the other side.

I let go of the power, watching as my hand fuzzed back into a solid state. It was at this that I felt something click in my head, a switch that flicked over from one tile to the next. The text had changed.  
 **  
To Run Away; Lv 2  
-Allows the user to transfer their bodily mass into a non physical state.  
-Allows the user to change the visual effect upon transferring their bodily mass into a physical state. Available effects; Nothing; Smoke; Static.  
\- +1 Dex  
\- +1 End  
**  
Interesting, but nothing really impressive. The last two points told me next to nothing, regardless of their inclusion. The important bit was what I felt as it had changed. The previously greyed text hiding behind had flushed, showing up just as visibly to me as Run had.

 **To Fight Back; Lv 1  
Allows the user to manifest a weapon from internal energy.**

Hmm.

(Derpy Linebreak, Annoying Hr.)

Waving it in front of myself, I was struck by a sense of lackluster appeal.

Sure, it was a power, manifesting itself before me in a clear, tangible way. The fact that it was a super power in the first place was pretty amazing. I could make... a knife. A short, blocky knife that barely looked like it would cut anything. It slid easily enough through my hoodies sleeve, much to my consternation. I decided not to test the edge on my skin, just in case. It seemed I couldn't change what the knife looked like, but I got a sense of trepidation lingering on the edge of my mind.

Additional 'effects' showed up once Run Away had gotten to level two, so maybe increasing Fights would increase the number of weapons I could inevitably use. 'Knife' wasn't exactly a heroic looking weapon. I looked more like a drug addled thug, swinging my glowing green knife before me in lazy sweeps as I posed for the mirror.

God that was depressing.

If I concentrated, I could switch which end the blade emerged from. It was slightly odd, the point melting down as it crept out from the other side. It was slightly concerning that neither the initial manifestation nor the blade switch was instantaneous. Forming the knife in the first place took about five to six seconds, after that changing it took a couple seconds. Insultingly, dismissing the blade took no time whatsoever. I wish the startup was just as fast.

For being a mock copy of Miss Militias power, it sure as heck started off feeling incomplete. It looked similar, at the very least. No idea if mine was just melee weapons or if I'd be able to from guns in the future at all, but I could hope.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work while Run was active. Activating it while I was fuzzy made the blade form, but it quickly slid from my incorporeal grip and disintegrated into nothingness. Activating Run after the knife formed had similar results.

I stopped practicing around midnight, a deep set tiredness filling my muscles. It felt like I had been working out, which in a sense I guess I had been. Unfortunately I hadn't been rewarded with another level up, for Run Away or Fight Back. I had no idea _why,_ Run Away had almost quickly leveled up just from me using it for a few minutes the first time, so why after having it active for over two hours it hadn't so much as twitched in the back of my mind...

Questions to be revisited... After I had some sleep.

(Derpy Linebreak, annoying Hr.)

It was slightly embarrassing to realize that my extent of fighting experience boiled down to 'don't get hurt' and 'pointy end go in bad guy'. Truly, I was a combat prodigy for the ages. Now, I wasn't stupid, I knew certain terminology and other such things. 'Don't curl your fingers over your thumb when throwing a punch', 'don't lean into a blow coming at you', 'don't commit to a confrontation when facing a superior opponent', 'know when to pick your battles'...

A lot of 'don't do these' moments. Hmm. I didn't know how to throw a proper punch, and my attempts at shadow boxing in front of the mirror looked pitiful and absurd. Like a child trying to copy the real thing. I wouldn't be able figure it out on my own without some desperate source of newfound luck. Four leaf clovers pouring out of my pockets like metaphorical gold coins? Nope, guess I'll have to look into joining a martial arts class or something.

At this point, starting from the beginning could only help me.

Waking up was novel, while I had gone to bed tired and sore deep in muscles I darn well knew I hadn't been straining, I now felt relaxed and serene. The aches had died down to near nothingness, and it actually felt like you powers were... 'easier' to grasp, for lack of a better wording. Thank goodness, I'd have hated for it to be at an immutable level, and always have that hanging over my head like a figurative sword of Damacles.

Dad had already left for work, leaving me with the house to myself. It was still relatively early in the morning, plenty of time to gather my thoughts and coordinate a plan.

My powers weren't 'infinite'. I had proven to myself quite handily that using them to excess resulted in diminishing returns. You never really thought about it that way, but I guess it made sense. Nothing was perpetual, after all. Was slightly amusing to think of someone like Glory Girl having to stop flying because of being 'too tired to do it'.

Thinking about it, I was pretty sure she flew everywhere. So maybe she didn't have an 'energy level' that she could drain. Was still an amusing thought.

So I had to practice. I wouldn't want to run myself down to the nub in the middle of a fight, or 'run out' of power similarly. Thankfully it seemed that it was on the higher end of caps, taking several hours of activity to make me feel it. Fights weren't like in martial arts films or in grand tales of the epochs. Watching more than a few recorded fights between capes taught me one very important lesson. Fights were wont to last for barely five minutes.

They'd clash, perhaps grandstand during their fights to drag them out, but the limiting nature of the fight itself would inevitably draw it to an early close. Even sooner, depending on the powers brought to play. Two brutes? They might toss each other into a building or two, then give up and go their separate ways once they realized they were continuing a pointless battle. Most capes tended to de-escalate by doing something groundbreaking, novel, new, divinely profound! They ran away...

If there was nothing to hit, then nothing would get hit. Simplicity in its stupidity.

The haze form would expedite any escape, and now that I had the additional options of changing the 'special effects'... I didn't like the smoke form. It made me look too much like Shadow Stalker. While yes, she was a badass hero of the edgelords ( _Shadow Stalker_. It sounded like an album title from on of my dad's old vinyl records. He had a thing for precursor metal. Better than the current stuff, in my opinion.) it might not be the best idea to copy her so fully. People might start calling my soon to be hero identity Shadow Stalkers sidekick or something. Not that I wouldn't mind having her as _my_ sidekick...

What? Crossbows are cool.

Once I had the barebones structure of a fighting style I could go out and start... stopping crime. Start stopping. Hmm.

Could I, though?

A knife was made with a very simple purpose. To _cut_. To rend one object into two or more objects. To destroy the bonds between to sets of molecules, separating them. This was obviously not a good thing to apply to the human body. Villains tried to wound their opponents, not heroes. Could I stab someone with this knife, with intent to wound so that I might win my fights?

I built up an image in my head, the face of my staunchest betrayer. Emma. Could I stab her, if I was given the chance?

I stabbed forward, knife in hand as my arm shuddered from the unpracticed movement. It was sloppy, and felt unnatural. I could almost hear her sneering in my head, mocking me for the lackluster performance. As much as I now despised her... I didn't _hate_ her. She didn't have the importance in my mind, not like she used to. She had abandoned me, so why should I hang on to her? I felt inclined to hang on to the _memories_ of her, the only redeemable facet of Emma. She was my friend, my confidant, my cuddle pillow to watch scary movies that our parents insisted on putting on.

That girl was gone. Through some form or another, the only vestige that remained was in my head.

I concentrated, bringing a facade of Madison to the forefront of my mind. The image wavered, and fizzled out before I could even properly focus on it. It was laughable, really. While Emma held impact in my heart... Madison did not. She was just a bully, pretty faced with mean words that spoiled her overall demeanor.

Sophia though... I found her face leaping all to eagerly to the forefront of my mind. Could I stab her? Would I? While the other two were altogether unimportant... She was the driving force. It was on her orders the torment continued, on her desires that I be held in despair. I would claim that she derived power from it... but things like demons, succubi and vampires weren't real.

She was just a bitch.

I stabbed forwards, blade intent on bisecting where her throat would have been. The swing was wide, a pitiful example of my current ability. Even in my mind, with a stationary target that I could reliably say that I hated... I couldn't.

She wasn't worth it.

The image faded from my mind, leaving me staring at a blank wall over the top of my bowl of corn flakes. They were getting soggy. I shoveled a mouthful into my too wide mouth, the bland cereal mushing against the inside of my cheeks. Definitely soggy.

What could I do with a knife I wasn't willing to use? I called it once more to my hand, turning it over as I inspected it. A seven inch blade, handle of slowly glowing green tinged energy... A rounded pommel.

I called up the image of Sophia again, miming hitting her over the head with the butt of the knife. Yeah, I could do that. Unconsciousness was better than dead. Plus, if she wasn't conscious, she couldn't... be conscious.

I wasn't completely awake yet, I will admit. And the soggy cereal wasn't helping.

 **To Fight Back; Lv 2  
Allows the User to manifest a weapon from internal energy.  
Increases the distance variable.  
Unlocked additional Frames from TT (1) Melee.  
\- +1 Str  
\- +1 End**

The words solidified in my head, dragging my concentration away from the slowly clumping biomass in the bowl before me.

Cereal could wait.

 **Authors Notes for Segment One;**  
Okay, so yeah. ANOTHER Gamer fic to throw into the endless ocean. Hopefully, this is different enough of a 'gamer' set up to not feel like a retread of another authors work. Lord knows I like the other two main 'Gamer/Worm' fics that have been flitting around here recently, and I don't want to make something derisive of their works. Flattery and mimicry and all that, but I'm hoping that I can make this 'new' enough to be interesting in a different way.

Taylor won't be getting access to a 'menu', 'status window', or many other main Gamer staples. The only 'Gamer' bits that she has 'access' to will be the level trees of the various powers themselves. Using a power will eventually level them up, unlocking additional abilities in that powers skill tree, along with the occasional other option depending on what I think up.

I had this thought in my head, that just unfolded into this potential story. What if Taylor could get other hero and villains powers, and then improve them? Then came the though of 'how does I do that'. So I hope this ends up being entertaining.

 **Authors Notes for Segment Two;**  
I just wanted to add some introspection as well as a minor reveal for what Taylor has to work with starting out with 'Fighting Back'. Yes, it's based on MMs power but at the moment it is extremely underpowered. Especially compared to what we've seen Militia use in canon. To add to what Taylor noticed, she can't keep the knife formed if she decides to throw it for any reason. To be exact, the knife retains its form for precisely one and a half inches away from Taylors skin. Past that, it goes away.

 **Authors Notes for Segment Three;**  
To note, the instances where I have Taylor say anything regarding her 'forming an image' of one of her bullies, that not a power effect or anything similar. It's just her imagining them standing in front of her. Normal, non power imagining. Like what boxers do with shadow boxing. They imagine the target in front of them, and attack them accordingly.

She does not have illusion powers. Yet.

I purposefully have the new additions to Fight Back be slightly confusing, for Taylor it's supposed to be like she got a set of Legos without the instructions. Or at the very least, misleading/wrong instructions. 'What's tab B?' 'There's only two silver pegs, why are you asking me for four?' 'Why are there leftover parts?'

'Frames' (heading off the question before someone asks) are what FB is referring to when it means 'weapons'. More 'Frames', more varrying weapons that Taylor can produce at that point in time. Different knives, swords, so on. 'TT (1) Melee' means -currently, before any edits that may occur in the future- Tech Tree (One) of Melee. So yes, there are different classes of specific tech trees, the one that Taylor started off with being 'blades or edged weapons'.

As to why I have this current format of multiple Author Notes, I have copy and pasted the first three segments of this story from Spacebattles, and glued it into one sizable portion. I thought you here on fimfic might still want the insight given by the AN's, without me sliding them into the middle of the story like I did for Veder Universe. I still get hate for that, but as they are... Hm. Well, I hope ya'll like this story!~


	2. Prologue part 2

I could change the length of the knife.

Surprisingly, the more mass I added onto the blade the heavier it got. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, really, but I was essentially creating mass out of nothing. Temporarily, but still.

I could manage up to a foot long blade, but any longer than that and the entire thing got thing for the thickness, but running around with a chopping hatchet didn't seem all that useful to me. Might be able to use it as a shield, perhaps. Wasn't too sure how that would even work, would I be able to hold onto the construct if a bullet slammed into it?

Would the construct even remain stable under such conditions?

It was easier getting the knife to form, now. Seems that was what t meant by 'distance variable'? As little as it truly made sense, it was easier now.

I didn't really feel any stronger, and I had no idea what it meant by 'end'. Maybe that was how long it took to dispel the construct? But it was already nearly instantaneous whenever I let it just fall out of my hand, so why bother with the confusing terminology?

I couldn't bring myself to stab someone with the blade. I knew that. It wasn't in me to try and inflict mortal injury on someone... Maybe my opinion would change if faced with someone trying to bring my remaining days of living to the negative. Maybe I could choose to trade their life for my own... but I didn't really want to think about that.

I turned the knife over in my hands, watching as the blade twisted and reformed before my eyes. The edge wasn't important, but the handle... The hilt... The pommel... They needed to be... _more._ Wider, thicker. Heavier? Hollow, crisscross the inside of the space with supports to reduce the weight, balance it with a more even distribution of material. Metal, stretching from the base to the head.

It was done before I could even really understand what I had made.

The actual blade of the knife was puny, barely an inch long it was a half circle shaped chunk of burnished metal. It attached to the top, if I tried to remove it completely the piece fell apart. The handle it was attached to had a basket case hand guard, covering my knuckles like a shield. It fit in my hand like it was made specifically for me.

I guess it really had been. I couldn't stab someone. That might very well change in the future, but right now I could hold myself to my beliefs. No deaths. Not if it could be avoided.

I stared down at my new weapon. Could barely call it a knife at this point...

I guess I was as ready as I could be.

 **Authors Notes:**

So, I realized I gave Taylor a knife and kinda just expected that to be enough. For a person trying to be a hero. Who had no confidence on her ability to use a knife.

Whoops.


	3. Contact

**To Run Away; Lv 4**

 **-Allows the user to transfer their bodily mass into a non physical state.**

 **-Allows the user to change the visual effect upon transferring their bodily mass into a physical state. Available effects; Nothing; Smoke; Static; Glitter; Powder -white, red, navy, yellow, green-; Flicker.**

 **-Increases movement speed whilst attaining non physical state. (80)% of normal speed.**

 **-Allows the usage of maneuvering through 3D space. Movement speed is decreased further whilst airborne by (300)% until recomencement of ground based travel, or otherwise contact overlap with a physical object.**

 **\- +3 Dex**

 **\- +2 End**

 **\- +.5 Str**

It kinda sucked, traveling under the effects of Run. It slowed me down to a crawl, even with the two 'levels' I had gained in it. It was even worse once I had gained the ability to leave the ground, my fantasies of coasting with my heels in the clouds were in shattered remains. I couldn't very well drift along at that height, it was scarier going slow.

As paradoxical as that was. It was also frightfully boring.

I'd been out here for almost three hours, and I was more than willing to call it a night. I had being floating around, looking for something interesting to no avail. Not a single drug dealer, ABB or Empire thug sniffing around anywhere. Didn't the bad guys know they were supposed to be up to no good so some daring hero could come by and thump them?

Heck, I hadn't seen even a single police car flashing their lights all night. Plenty of the vehicular pandas zooming every which way, but none of them frantic or sudden in their movements. Considering what city I lived in I guess this was a win, but I was bored. I'd give anything for a uplifting end to the night, but it looked as if I'd only be going to bed with disappointment.

At least I was getting better with Run, even though Fight hadn't seen any use tonight. If I managed to get Run to improve a bit, maybe I could get the silly flight up to a more reasonable speed. Nothing says 'badass' like a static laced phantom slowly creeping towards you whilst you easily outpace it with a hop and a skip. Seriously, my current pace was embarrassing. A dog with no legs could outrun me at this point,

I had played around with the visual effects, but for my main purpose of staying out of sight most of them were counter productive. Glitter and flicker could be cycled back to back, creating an interesting light show. I might be able to use it in combat, to distract an attacker. Otherwise, they were simply too eye catching.

And definitely not what I wanted to be using in my general subterfuge and travel. Smoke did well enough in that regard, but I left a trail behind myself for several seconds. Most of the effects dissipated almost immediately but smoke seemed to have its duration built in as a pseudo limitation. Anything to make my life harder, it seems. I sure as heck didn't fancy the idea of leaving a trail of smoke right to me in the event I was trying to run away. Lowercase of course, despite what irony might be present.

"You friggin bitch!" I heard pierce the relative quiet of the night as something _passed through me_ to collide with the wall behind me. I turned my head, maintaining Run as I looked down at the item in question. It was a hubcap. "I got unfinished business with you Stalker, you're gonna pay for last time!" I looked back at the origin of the voice, feeling myself pale (I could literally see my smoke lighten) at my newly revealed adversary.

Rune, poster child of bad life choices for the Nazi regime. She was floating on a levitating manhole cover, small baseball sized chunks of concrete revolving around her in haphazard orbits.

Could I still run away?

"Get ready for a beating!"

... Yeaaaaaah... Fuck that.


	4. An Unbalanced Brawl

I stared back at her over the edges of my scarf, trying to fight down my mounting confusion.

"Uh... What?" I called out. I didn't disengage Run, forcing my voice to come out distorted. Well, I say 'forced', but I was more than grateful for the slight disguising it did to my voice. Trying to change the pitch and tone of your voice manually was all kinds of awkward. "Not to be rude, but I think you might have the wrong person-"

I cut myself off as a rock arced through the air, slamming through where my head should be and smashing apart on the wall behind me.

Rune let loose an inarticulate growl of frustration, reaching down to trace unseen images on another chunk of rock at her feet. It too rose to orbit around her, a lazy circle that slowly drifted behind her. "Enough of your fucking mind games, bitch! I'm gonna wreck your shit inwards, you hear me!?"

Ah. It appears negotiations had broken down. Given the current company, I wasn't that surprised. Girl had a screw loose from the start, all she needed was an innuendo laced name and a slightly skimpier sense of dress and she could fit right in with the Merchants. Already had the swearing part down pat.

I said nothing, unsure of what exactly I was supposed to do. As another chunk of shattered concrete traced it's way through me -an altogether unpleasant feeling, like having my teeth drilled under novocaine but entire stretches of my body instead.- a thought struck me. I had no idea _why_ Shadow Stalker would ever go tangible in the middle of a fight. Sure, moving was slow as balls while Run was active, but in turn she was effectively invulnerable.

At least, that was my current _assumption_. I had only been doing this for so long, I couldn't claim to really know absolutely about any of this stuff. For all I knew, holding Run active for too long would increase the difficulty of turning back to normal. Maybe it would make it so that my mucus turned acidic, I dunno.

Or maybe it was because I couldn't hit her like this.

From the few clips of Shadow Stalker I had found on YouTube, she was always an angsty little shit. No bright cheery perfect little Ward like Vista, if she hadn't been wearing a full face mask I swear she would be wearing a permanent frown 24-7. She was offensive, and confrontive. It might just boil down to the fact that she liked hitting things in the face, instead of taking her time to wear down her opponents stamina and wait for them to make a mistake.

Like little ol Rune had just done.

While I had been internally musing, she had been working herself further and further into a fervor. When one rock flung at my head hadn't worked, she apparently decided that the proper course of action was to throw _all_ of them at me. And continue flinging said chunks of masonry through my no material form again and again, in the vain attempts that each new attempt would prove fruitful.

It was like fighting a dumb animal, the more worked up she got the less thought she put into her actions.

In the end, she abandoned her attempts to use her power and just ran -floated on her manhole cover- up to me and started swinging. Countless obscenities were flowing from her lips, constant verbal inanities intended to draw my ire and force my retaliation. I stayed silent through it all, observant. There was no point in joining her in her fruitless endeavor.

My intentions bore fruit far faster than hers had, when her boundless hate quickly plowed its way through her meager reserves of physical stamina. Also whatever juice powered her... well, powers. I guess it made sense that they would work kinda like a muscle, made more sense than 'runs off magic' or anything of similar explanation. We already had Myrdin, we didn't need any other capes running around claiming their powers were magic.

Already have gangs running around the city, didn't need to add any more crazies to the mix.

Runes manhole cover dipped, and in her surprise she stumbled off it in a drunken haze. She went careening to the side, giving me my first opening of the fight. Ha, 'fight'. It was more of a temper tantrum in the grand scheme of things. She screamed at me a lot, she threw things, she tried to hit me... It was rather amusing comparing this to a toddler throwing a fit.

As she tipped to the side, I deactivated Run for the first time the entire fight. Her back was to me as she tried to keep her balance, leaving me ample time to deliver a swift boot to her prominent backside. She went screeching into a pile of refuse, giving me ample time to wrench her arms behind her back and secure her hands with zipties. I used three. Can't be too careful!~

"Gonna kill you, you fucking bitch!" She impotently threatened, as I pulled her out into the middle of the street.

Huh.

 **Dancing With Him; Lv 1**

 **User can control the 3D movement of (1) item, after having touched said item. Energy expenditure increases with mass.**

 **Allows the marking of an item to control in a (13) foot radius.**

 **To Run Away; Lv 6**

 **-Allows the user to transfer their bodily mass into a non physical state.**

 **-Allows the user to change the visual effect upon transferring their bodily mass into a physical state. Available effects; Nothing; Smoke; Static; Glitter; Powder -white, red, navy, yellow, green-; Flicker.**

 **-Dampens Non Critical emotions whilst active. 10%**

 **-Increases ephemeral movement speed whilst attaining non physical state. (90)% of normal speed.**

 **-Allows the usage of maneuvering through 3D space. Movement speed is decreased further whilst airborne by (25)% until recomencement of ground based travel, or otherwise contact overlap with a physical object.**

 **\- +6 Dex**

 **\- +4 End**

 **\- +1.5 Str**


	5. Two Wheeled Knight

I internally inspected the new power floating inside my head, slightly confused at how the naming convention had turned.

 **Dancing With Him; Lv 1**

 **User can control the 3D movement of (1) item, after having touched said item. Energy expenditure increases with mass.**

 **Allows the marking of an item to control in a (13) foot radius.**

Telekinesis. It was obviously an overly flowery way of saying 'can move things with your mind'. That was Runes power, I just knew it. Did I steal it? I don't think asking the irate individual would be very conducive to the current situation, even now she was continuously assaulting my ears with racist bile.

And what was up with the name? _To Fight_ made perfect sense. You summoned knives and stuff to fight. _To Run Away_ made sense as well, as escaping based powers went, there was precious little that could stop Shadow Stalker once she went smoke mode. So what the hell was with this new powers name?

 _Dancing With Him_. I guess the little patterns she did with her hands could be construed as a sort of 'dancing', but that reasoning felt flimsy at best. Who knows, maybe I could figure out something more at a later time, when I wasn't waiting for someone to arrive to take little miss sailor mouth with them.

I had raided the mini nazis pockets, purloining her phone for my own use. She didn't keep it locked, so I was easily able to make a call to the cops so they could take her off my hands. While I was doing this, I noticed she was trying to put more patterns on things, even with her hands ziptied behind her back. A few more zipties, and each of her posing fingers were locked together. Not the prettiest solution, but it seemed to work for the moment.

It also seemed to confirm that I hadn't stolen her power, if the tiny bits of rock she had grabbed before I noticed were anything to go by.

Whomever was manning the call in desk for the BBPD seemed completely flabbergasted that I would call _**THE COPS**_ to come and arrest a criminal. No no no, cops are only _allowed_ to deal with _normal_ criminals. Seems completely backwards to me. One paddy wagon should be as good as any other, right? Throw a bad guy in, and the next time the doors open they're in jail. Or prison. Another thing I should look up next time I'm able. Anyway, he rerouted me to the PRT, which started as a bored sounding voice and swiftly got switched over to a more serious toned fellow. Sounded like he wore a tie. His voice sounded familiar too...

They told me that I'd have to wait here for a few, and they'd have 'someone down to pick her up'. A load of fat good that did me for now, having to wait in the cold while miss new nazi continues to berate me with progressively more nonsensical insults.

"-and when I get out, I'm gonna hit you so hard the black with fly off and coat the pavement!"

I turned and stared at her for a couple seconds. Then I hiked up my sleeve, showing off my unblemished arm.

"Do I _look_ black to you?" I asked, "I mean, I'm not even wearing gloves. I know it's dark, but you should have been able to see _that_ at least..."

Surprisingly, that mostly shut her up. Instead of responding to my well thought out bit of common sense, she turned over and started grumbling to herself. Quieter than she had been, so that was something at least.

Noticing a low noise echoing through the streets, I heard her own grumbling dip down into a quiet groan. "Fucking hell, not _him..._ "

"Friend of yours?" I joked, eliciting another groan and a few seconds of half whispered insults.

The sound grew closer, eventually revealing their source. A silver and blue motorcycle, wielding a similarly coloured silver and blue armored knight. He came to a stop, and swiftly dismounted. Holy heck that was freaking Armsmaster! Oh my gosh, he was looking right at me!

"Are you the one that called this in?" he asked, the voice a no nonsense drawl. It was with a start that I recognized it as the 'definitely wears a tie' voice I had heard over the phone.

"Hi," I stuttered out, a blush creeping across my face as I realized what I just said. "I mean, me. Yes! I, uh, I was the one that called, I mean." I barely managed to force myself to keep standing up straight, instead of turning and running away so I could find a rock to hide under. Good god Taylor, grow a backbone! If you're going to be a hero, you're going to have to stand in front of other heroes and not faint at the sight!

He stared at me for a few seconds, before taking out a pair of handcuffs and securing them over the work I had already done.

"God! Fuck!" Rune cursed as he hauled her to a standing position. "Did you have to call _him_?" She asked, directing her attention to me, "This twink always cranks the damn handcuffs too tight..."

"Maybe if you stayed off the streets and gave up such foolish hobbies, I wouldn't be tasked to find ways to make your memories of such outcomes so unpleasant," He rattled off in response.

"Thanks officer Stick Up Ass," she retorted testily. "I'll be sure to tell daddy Kaiser you told me that, maybe he'll let me join the cheer leading squad this time," she stated in a bored, almost wooden tone.

Armsmaster shrugged, squaring his shoulders. He turned to me, holding out a small carrot shaped bit of tech. "And you miss? Are you the cape that called this in?"

I took a couple seconds to regain my bearings, confident I could reply without my voice cracking.

"Uhm, yes. I did."

"Then could you please recount how you came to such a circumstance, into the microphones for you would?" He asked, waving said carrot shaped device closer to my face.

I leaned forward, unsure of how well the mic would pick up my voice from across the meager distance.

"Yeah, well, uh..." I started, before regaining my composure. "I was just out tonight, testing out my powers, and Rune here," I waved a hand towards her, to which she responded with a shrug. "And she attacked me when she saw me. I went intangible and just waited until she made a mistake, and then that was that. No big fight, aaaand," I traced my eyes back over to Rune, who was studiously trying to ignore me now. "Uhm. Well, that was that. I tied her up, and called the police."

With a grunt of minor surprise, I dug the villainesses phone from my pocket. "This phone. It's hers, I mean," I said, holding it out for the hero to gingerly pluck from my hand. "Dunno how the rules of 'finders keeper' or anything apply, so I probably have to give that to you, right?"

"Quite," he muttered, placing the phone in a plastic baggy he had pulled from... somewhere. "It's evidence from the scene of a crime, although there are a few more obscure laws governing the right of seizure of property during a cape fight."

I nodded along, not completely understanding.

"Fancy way of saying that you can steal shit for no fucking reason," Rune piped up, garnering a twitch from the armored man. With a twist of his arm, he pointed his wrist at her. With a soft * _fuft_ *, she sagged and went limp.

"Tranq," he explained, "Makes transporting easier given the lack of a seat to tie them to," he waved a hand at his bike, summoning fantasies from my mind of him mounting Rune over the handlebars like a hunted elk. "As well as reducing the level of noise pollution," he joked.

I politely laughed along, suddenly aware he could just as easily tranq _me_ if he saw fit reason to. He was a hero, who was going to tell him no?

"So... Uh..." I trailed off as he dug into a hidden compartment inset within the seat of his bike. He pulled out a sheaf of papers, separating a single leaflet and placing the rest back within.

"Have you given thought joining the Wards? The average lifespan of an independent cape is quite low, especially in this city," he declared bluntly, pushing a pamphlet into my clammy hands.

"I... Uh... Maybe?" I squeaked out, clutching to the flimsy piece of glossy paper as if it were a life preserver. "I'd have to ask my dad about it," I ended weakly.

"You should do so," he nodded, lifting up Rune by her midsection and placing her gently on the motorcycle. "There's no rush or anything, but the protectorate has resources and other utilities to help budding heroes. There's no greater place for an up and coming newcomer to gain their footing."

Huh. Not exactly the most eloquent recruitment speech, but not a horrible one. The man seemed a bit itchy, like he had somewhere to be and I was holding him up.

"I... I'll do that," I responded, nodding my head slightly as he mounted the bike behind the tiny -by comparison- neo nazi. "Uhm, Mr Armsmaster? Sir?' I choked out, an errant thought running across my mind. I hadn't gotten a new power just by being near Rune, no. It wasn't only after I touched her, tieing her up with the zipties that the new power had appeared. And if that was how my ability worked, then... "Can I shake your hand?"

He stared at my outstretched hand for a second before reaching out and giving mine a solid pump with his own. The armor he was wearing was rough in patches, but most of the palm was a soft leathery texture.

"Good work tonight," he praised me, sending my fragile blood pressure soaring ever higher.

As he rode off, I stared down at my hand. No new powers echoing around the confines of my mind, weirdly named or otherwise. Was I wrong? Had I gained the abilities through some other, more convoluted means?

Hmm.


	6. Relaxations Marred By The Observant

I lay on my bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling above.

A good nights sleep had done nothing to further any sort of nebulous ritual needed to attain Armsmasters tinker bits. I was no closer to figuring out how I actually gained new sets than I was previously. At best guess I had to 'beat the opponent' if Rune was anything to go on, but that further didn't explain how I had gotten my first two original powers.

Speaking of...

 **To Run Away; Lv 8**

 **-Allows the user to transfer their bodily mass into a non physical state.**

 **-Allows the user to change the visual effect upon transferring their bodily mass into a physical state. Available effects; Nothing; Smoke; Static; Glitter; Powder -White, Red, Navy, Yellow, Green-; Flicker; Papercraft.**

 **-Dampens Non Critical emotions whilst active. 13%**

 **-Increases ephemeral movement speed whilst attaining non physical state. (94)% of normal speed.**

 **-Allows the usage of maneuvering through 3D space. Movement speed is decreased further whilst airborne by (23)% until recomencement of ground based travel, or otherwise contact overlap with a physical object.**

 **\- +7 Dex**

 **\- +4 End**

 **\- +2 Str**

The weird numbers at the end had gone up again, but I didn't really feel any different. Actually trying to puzzle out the mathematics that it displayed didn't make my poor noggin feel any better, if I was reading it right I should be completely stationary if I left the ground in a shadow state. Which, seeing as I actually _could_ move -albeit slowly- in the air, I was obviously missing something.

Beyond the numbers, I noted it said I had a visual effect called 'Papercraft'. Only similar to the name in the effect that both were made from paper, staring at myself in the mirror and activating Papercraft ended up with me peering warily at a mass of moving paper that might have been in my general shape. Each surface was constantly moving, looking like an ever undulating origami monstrosity. At the very least I'm fairly certain no one would ever be able to connect this to Shadow Stalkers powers.

 ** **To Fight Back; Lv 3****

 **Allows the User to manifest a weapon from internal energy.**

 **Increases the distance variable.**

 **Allows the User to change the variance of (?); Green, Blue, Yellow.**

 **Unlocked additional Frames from TT (1) Melee.**

 **\- +3 Str**

 **\- +3 End**

I had managed to bump up a level by copying some knife trick tutorials I had found online. Pricked my fingers too many times to count, but at least I could now change the size of my knives to somewhere around dirk length. I could even tweak their angles, creating almost sickle or kama-esque blades.

Surprisingly, the easiest of my abilities to ramp up seemed to be my newest one.

 **Dancing With Him; Lv 5**

 **User can control the 3D movement of (10) items, after having touched said item. MP expenditure increases with mass.**

 **Allows the marking of an item to control in a (15) foot radius.**

 **Objects can move at a speed of (3) miles and hour, at an acceleration of (?).**

 **Objects of (3) pounds and under can be held indefinitely with no MP loss.**

 **Objects held can be charged with visual effects held by To Run Away for (130) MP per object. Certain effects may not be transferable.**

Just floating some marbles above my head in an oscillating halo seemed to be enough of a workout to make it decide it was worth an extra level or two. Adding some old beads once I ran out of my meager ready supply of marbles, and further tossing up a couple wedge erasers once I unlocked the extra 'object slots'. I had thought I would easily lose track after adding so many little bits, but somehow I was able to intrinsically _know_ where each of my held items was floating.

It was like having eyes in the back of my head, being able to make my trinkets dance above me. Oh! Maybe that was where the 'dancing' aspect came from? Maybe?

I had a near panic attack when my dad walked in earlier, flinging and freezing my wayward projectiles above the door frame just out of sight. A wave of frozen dread had hammered along in my chest to the beat of my heart, barely managing to let out a timid 'what's up'.

He had just wanted to let me know breakfast was ready.

After he left-and making sure he had gone downstairs based off the sounds of his footfalls-, I slumped back onto my bed and lost control of my halo as it clattered to the floor in an unorganized mess. I'll have to work on that, wouldn't want that to happen randomly in the middle of a fight.

Pancakes are gods gift to the bereaved, I swear.

It was... odd. I honestly couldn't remember the last time he had made anything special for us, and with him taking long nights at work I had quickly become an expert into the finesse required for thawing frozen chicken and grilling it on our pitiful little George Foremen. Rub some spices into it before cooking? Vary them enough and you'd never get tired of boring old chicken.

Okay, so that was a blatant lie. But chicken was cheap, and easy enough to prepare. Also, after I had started loading up on peppers and marinating the meat in their caustic juices... Well let's just say the minute amount of satisfaction I got from watching Sophia eat my sandwich right in front of me and then go howling down the hall as she desperately searched for something to quell the burning heat alighting upon her tongue?

Pricelless. They hadn't even been able to spin that one to their benefit, either. She'd passed it off as 'accidentally' eating my sandwich. Accidentally. When the schools provided meal for the day had been lasagna. Idiots, and assholes the lot of them.

"So..." my dad broke the silence, a fork idly tracing his plate as it etched designs in the leftover syrup in swirling, ever arching patterns. "Uh... How's it going? How's school?"

' _Just as tortuous as ever_ ' I wanted to reply, but managed to squash that bit of bitterness under a pile of metaphysical weight. He didn't deserve that vitriol.

"Ss-fine," I muttered, smothering my words in another bite of pancakes.

"So where'd you go last night?"

I'll admit, I had a less than graceful response to that. Coughing up half my lung, spewing the contents of my mouth across the table, and ungainly struggling to breathe hardly lends itself to the image of one of poise and grace.

"That was an interesting little trick with the smoke stuff too," he stated matter-of-factly in a dry tone, fixing me with a humorless stare.

"When exactly were you going to tell me that you had powers?"


End file.
